Photograph
by Theatricals
Summary: They said she was too good to get tangled up with a tom like him. She had her life in order, and she was ready to become a great warrior that her Clan could be proud of—but life is a funny thing, and sometimes it has something better in mind.
1. Broken Waves

**PHOTOGRAPH**

They said she was too good to get tangled up with a tom like him. She had her life in order, and she was ready to become a great warrior that her Clan could be proud of—but life is a funny thing, and sometimes it has something better in mind.

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 **Author's Note:** As an effort to get some muse back after a hectic month filled with projects, exams, prom, and graduation, I thought I'd bring you guys a shorter story based on an RP I did around a year ago with my pal Nifty (NiftyShark) before starting back up with Tainted Line. This short story is based heavily around that, so along with the work I put in, any praise should also be shared with her. Along with that, I just want to point out that this story will not be plot-heavy, and will mostly focus around a few characters. Now that that's out of the way, onto the story. (:

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 **Broken Waves  
**

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Rarely did Nimblepaw face struggles academically-especially something as seemingly simple as battle techniques.

Sure, no one could _master_ everything, and she knew that, but she was at least average and could get by. Right now, however, she was definitely struggling.

The duck and twist was a supposedly simple move, and one she was hoping to teach herself, but it was something that she couldn't quite get right. She had to duck and twist around, roll onto her back, and then springs to her paws within quick succession to each other. The steps were memorized and she was ready to do them, but the normally agile apprentice was having trouble keeping her balance when she twisted around.

Huffing, she moved to try it again, almost positive that her Clanmates could hear her grunts of frustration from their own dens as she practiced in the clearing. It wasn't the best time to be practicing, considering the sun had since dipped below the horizon and the sky was painted black, but her eagerness to get this one thing right kept her from turning in with the majority of her Clan.

She was aware that there were a few cats that remained in the clearing, but she chose to ignore them for the most part. But her concentration could only take her so far.

She could have sworn she almost pulled off the technique when a sudden snap broke her focus, causing her to fall over and lose all of the focus she had been building up. The consistently failure already irritated her, so the sudden interruption only served to frustrate her further.

Turning her head, she noticed a dark brown tabby standing near a bush, and immediately concluded that he was the one that had caused the noise. "Hello, Trenchpaw," she greeted politely, albeit a bit irritably. She wasted no more time on idle conversation, and moved back to practicing her move. She was normally a fairly social cat, but as demonstrated by her attitude now, it was hard to break her determination when she was so concentrated on completing a task.

She barely acknowledged her fellow apprentice, although she assumed that he was still sitting at the edge of the clearing. The fact that she was being watched only made her more anxious to complete her task, and this anxiety clearly translated into paranoia—so much so that she nearly jumped when she felt a paw jab her in her haunch. It wasn't gentle, either.

"Your muscles are too taut here," he said presumptuously, circling around to her other side. Lifting a brow, her eyes followed him with a doubtful and exasperated expression—one he took no notice of, apparently, as he kept speaking.

"You're not getting low enough, for your size. Stay light on your paws when you twist around, and always have an anchor point," he instructed, and she could immediately detect the tone of voice he used—it was similar to that of an enemy warrior who taunted your every move. She didn't appreciate it one bit.

The ruddy tabby crouched, as if to demonstrate. He ducked suddenly, flashing his right paw above his head before pivoting on his left paw. With his body lower to the ground, he was propelled into a roll on, and while not entirely impressed, she did take note as he kept his front paws tucked under his body while kicking out with his hind paw. Almost immediately he sprang back up.

She might have wondered at first if he was going to offer to help her, but when he lifted his gaze and met hers arrogantly, she knew he wasn't doing this out of the kindness of his heart. She gave him an annoyed glare. It wasn't like she was a little kit that didn't know what she was doing. She knew what to do, but was just having trouble putting it in motion.

"That's not how I was shown to do it," she responded defensively.

His blue eyes were critical as he circled her once more. "How you were _shown_?" he repeated, shaking his head. "Don't make me laugh. If you do it how it's taught move-for-move, you will never be a successful fighter. Enemies will be able to predict your every move and it could mean life or death."

"I didn't say I was taught _move-for-move_ ," she shot back at him. "I said that _your_ way is not how I was taught.

Trenchpaw finally stopped in front of her, his eyes boring into hers as he slid into a fighting crouch.

"If you don't believe me, then attack me."

Nimblepaw growled, feeling her frustration rising. Who gave him the right to judge her so critically and then claim he knew better? "You're not the only apprentice that knows how to fight." Her amber eyes flashed against his cold blue ones. It took a strong claim to spike her anger, but it was even more rare that she would act on that anger.

Instead of giving in to his invitation to fight, she backed away. "I don't have to prove anything to you. You look like you're trying to make everyone believe that you're superior to them. You're not." This time, she actually turned her back on him, moving into the position to perform a different battle technique. She could go back and try the other later—preferably, when there wasn't a set of eyes judging her every move.

Unfortunately, she couldn't even do that. He continued to speak as though she could be bothered to listen. "I improved what I learned. I never said I was the only one who knew how to fight."

The she-cat glanced back, but only to respond to his words. "I will improve only when I am able to get down the basics. If I am unable to do the move in the simplest way, then it isn't worth improving upon," she pointed out, finally turning back to face him. Her initial anger was slowly fading, although it was plain to see that she was keeping her walls up in case she needed to defend herself or her respect. "I learn it first. I perform it. I will put my own skills to use later when I know how to do it in the first place."

They stared at one another, eyes unwavering. He cleared his throat roughly. "Sometimes it's a matter of modifying it so you do it better. If that is how you see it, than that's fine. But that doesn't mean you are right."

"I'm not trying to make a statement," she said, slightly hesitant. "I'm just trying to train and become a good warrior."

"Yeah, okay," Trenchpaw grunted, quickly moving to his paws as though he forgot to take care of something. "If you're going to do this, I'd suggest waiting until morning. There's a lot to do tomorrow." Apparently he thought those counted as decent parting words, as he said nothing else before stalking away towards the apprentices' den.

Instinct told her to say goodnight, as she was one for routine, but the words caught in her throat. Strangely, she didn't think the words would be appreciated. The black sky and the now silent camp led her to decide to turn in as well, although that wasn't her main motivator. As she abandoned her training post and joined him in the den, she couldn't bear to end the night on a hostile note, no matter how she felt previously.

"Goodnight," she murmured apathetically into the darkness, expecting nothing in return as she moved to curl up in her nest.

Her assumption was right, and the only thing that greeted her was silence.


	2. Digging Ditches

**PHOTOGRAPH**

They said she was too good to get tangled up with a tom like him. She had her life in order, and she was ready to become a great warrior that her Clan could be proud of—but life is a funny thing, and sometimes it has something better in mind.

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 **Author's Note:** Thank you Clearly for the wonderful review. (: Here's the next chapter!

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 **Digging Ditches  
**

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For the life of him, Trenchpaw couldn't figure out why Nimblepaw continued to use her same old techniques when it was so clear that they wouldn't work. While he didn't particularly get along with his mentor, he still did well with training, while it was clear that his fellow apprentice was still struggling in some aspects.

To some degree, it bothered him—having to watch the dejected look on her face every time she returned from training. It wasn't often, but he knew the reason for it whenever it happened. Her frustration transferred directly to him, and he found himself irritated that she didn't take any of his advice into consideration.

A half-moon had passed, and there was no change.

Trenchpaw was settled in his nest for a long while before the ruddy tom decided he probably wasn't going to sleep that night. Opening both eyes, he looking around, his eyes accidentally passing over Nimblepaw. She was sleeping.

What was it that made him this confused and frustrated? Because his advice was so obviously rejected by her? Because she was the only one that refused? These thoughts only served to baffle Trenchpaw even more. He lived for fighting, the satisfaction of his claws tearing through the pelt of his enemies. So what was wrong with him now?

Without thinking, Trenchpaw stood up and padded carefully over to the fawn she-cat, prodding her side with a paw. It took a minute for his brain to catch up to his body, and he was horrified when he realized what he was just done. It was too late now though. His expression quickly turned to one of cold indifference, and that was the face that Nimblepaw saw when her eyes finally opened slightly.

"Trenchpaw...?" she asked groggily, jaws gaping in a huge yawn. "It's late… what's going on?"

He dipped his head lower, speaking in a low growl, "I need to show you something." His voice was dry and cold. Mentally though, the ruddy tabby was endlessly cursing himself for acting on impulse. He had already done that once before, and the punishment still hung over him like a dark cloud. Now, he had to deal with the consequences, as small as they might be.

"Nothing's wrong," he said, voice dipping an octave lower. "Follow," he growled again, stalking out of the den. In a way, he hoped that she wouldn't follow. As if to encourage this, he took his secret way out of camp that wouldn't alert those on watch. It involved a lot of precarious climbing, and he finally came to the top of a ridge, with trees stretching out in front of him.

Trenchpaw frowned to himself. Providing she did follow, what in StarClan's name was he going to show her? The tom had absolutely nothing in mind, and he scented rain on the air too.

Lovely.

Sleep tugged at the back of his mind, and he felt frustrated. Digging his claws into the earth, he imagined the sound he was dreading - Nimblepaw climbing the rocks to follow him. There was no way she wasn't going to follow, was there?

"Trenchpaw?"

Trenchpaw's heart sank as he heard Nimblepaw come up from behind him.

When she finally caught up to him, she looked to be out of breath, but no less curious. "Trenchpaw... what's going on? It's going to rain soon. What did you have to show me?"

The ruddy tabby sighed quietly as it looked like he was going to have to improvise. "Down the slope here, in a copse of trees a little way off. It's in this direction," he grunted.

Bounding off without waiting, he ran in the indicated direction, not entirely sure what was ahead. The scent of rain drifted on the wind, and the night was very black; the storm clouds covered any light that could be emitted from the sky. The ruddy tom was barely able to run ahead without wondering whether he would trip over a rock or branch.

Trenchpaw noticed the fawn tabby glance back, but he didn't comment. Rain started to fall by the time the tom reached the bottom of the slope, and he was surprised at just how quickly it came. His plan to improvise was very quickly disappearing, and was quickly replaced by a need to take cover to think of a new one. He could have easily chosen to just run back to camp, but doing so would prompt more questions from the she-cat beside him. Where did he want to take her? Why now?

He shook his head, finding that this was probably the best option anyway. He looked around carefully, eyes squinting in the dark. The trees swayed against the wind that was picking up and wet leaves occasionally dropped from the trees. Losing scent of where he was going, he turned around. It was clear that the fawn tabby trusted him enough to keep following, as she was behind him still.

Glaring at her, he sighed. The rain was getting heavier, and he finally had to admit that all his effort should be put into finding someplace dry until the storm passed. "It's too dark to see where I'm going, and I can't scent where I'm going either in this rain. We have to find a place to take cover."

The act was not foreign to him, as sneaking out of camp in the middle of the night was almost routine with his solitary training sessions. This was unknown to all of his Clanmates, however, so he knew it couldn't be obvious that he knew exactly where he was going. This was precisely why when Nimblepaw spoke up first, he pulled back in surprise.

"There's a den up ahead, I believe," she said. "It looks like an overhang."

Trenchpaw squinted through the rain, his pelt significantly heavier than when he had left camp. He knew that shaking it out would do nothing, and he grimaced. He wasted no more time in standing around and began to lead the way towards the overhang that Nimblepaw had pointed out to him.

Puddles were collecting quickly on the ground and he had to splash his way through a couple of them. After what felt like moons, Trenchpaw quickly made it under the overhang. It was only somewhat dry, and there was barely enough room to fit two cats, but it would have to do.

He sat down, inching over to the right to make room for Nimblepaw. The ruddy tabby quickly noticed it was getting colder, and he shivered. What a fantastic night he was having.

He barely acknowledged that it was mostly his own doing.

The fawn tabby joined him soon enough, shaking out her pelt as she approach and quickly squeezing under to join him. "I don't think we'll be getting anywhere at this rate," she sighed.

"Maybe not," Trenchpaw grunted. While _she_ didn't seem bothered by the lack of space, _he_ was uncomfortably aware of how close he was to Nimblepaw, their pelts slightly brushing even when they were slicked down with water. The air was chilly, and it was still dark from the storm clouds. Even though the tabby tom couldn't see her, he was almost too aware of her.

Now out of the pelting rain, he no longer had anything to distract him from his wandering thoughts.

Why had she bothered following him? It wasn't like he was known for friendliness, or even trustworthiness.

What had compelled him to prod her awake? He didn't know.

Trenchpaw didn't even know what to say to her now—two moons of being apprentices together, and they hadn't gotten past being acquaintances. He knew that this was the way of the Clan, and that not everyone would know you as well as others, but the fact that no one really knew _anything_ about him was something that couldn't be overlooked.

After shaking himself to rid the thoughts from his head, he sat as still and motionlessly as he could manage, afraid that shifting would make him accidentally nudge her shoulder. The longer the silence dragged on, the more uncomfortable he became, and it unnerved him to know that she was probably aware of it based on what seemed like an attempt on her part to keep up a conversation.

Trenchpaw sat rigidly, and he tried to focus on the raindrops as a soothing source, but the cold wind ripped him away from that immediately. Nimblepaw's insistence on speaking and shifting around only furthered the need for him to keep his mind occupied.

"No," he replied curtly. He dug his claws into the moist earth, starting to feel miserable. Resting his head on his paws, he tried to keep his thoughts focused on the raindrops, and not any disturbances by the wind or Nimblepaw.

For a while, he let himself enjoy the soft sounds of the rain that had now become a steady stream. No longer was it pelting down, but it would be a while yet before they could make the trek back to camp. He was quite relieved when, out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Nimblepaw copying his actions and settling her head on her own paws.

The peace lasted long enough for him to begin to drift off, lulled by the sounds of raindrops as they pattered the ground in front and above him. For the most part, rain never really bothered him, and in this instance, it was as good as he was going to get. He would have drifted off completely, if not for the sound of shuffling and a tongue rasping itself against his shoulder.

Trenchpaw's eyes shot open, his muscles and mind frozen alike, the rain becoming mere background noise now. Nimblepaw was grooming him? Why? He couldn't even recall the last time another cat had shared tongues with him. He had forgotten the feeling.

He was unable to conceal his surprise. "Wh-what are you doing?" His voice was unlike what it usually was, as there was no trace of his defensive mannerisms.

Nimblepaw he pulled away almost immediately, and appeared indifferent as she responded, "I'm sure that you would rather be dry than wet?"

Trenchpaw merely blinked at her.

"Just thought it might help." Despite her words, she did not continue, and Trenchpaw was left feeling utterly confused when she dropped her head back to her paws.

"Yeah…" Trenchpaw murmured, not really thinking about what she said, but more so that the soothing warm feeling was gone. He stared straight ahead into the darkness. Should he have returned the gesture? He remained with his head lifted, battling with his thoughts.

Without coming to a conscious decision, he leaned over to start drying the fur between her shoulder blades.

He felt her twitch at the sudden contact, but relax slightly after a moment. "You don't have to do that," she said gently.

Trenchpaw paused. "I know I don't, of course," he responded, his old mannerisms slowly returning. The ruddy tom knew that she still hadn't pushed away, so he resumed, smoothing a knotted bit of fur a little below her shoulders. It was better for him not to just continue, as he actually had a legitimate reason not to speak. Apparently, this wasn't enough to prevent Nimblepaw from speaking, though.

"You seem really tense," she said, and Trenchpaw noticeably twitched. "Why is that?"

There was a short paused before the she-cat spoke again. "Does it have anything to do with what you wanted to show me?"

Trenchpaw stopped completely, finding that as of right now, a little honesty wouldn't get him into too much trouble. "I wasn't expecting you to share tongues with me," he meowed briefly, figuring that answer was self-sufficient where he wouldn't need to explain more. Her second question, however, prompted a more hesitant response. "And no, they are...unrelated," he meowed carefully, remembering that he still had nothing to show her.

When she gave a short nod of acknowledgement, Trench continued nosing through her fur to find tangled bits of fur. While doing so he realized that her skin was quite cold, as was his own. He was cold too, but his dark tabby fur was shorter and would dry faster and be easier to manage. Cautiously, after working out a tough knot, he asked, "Are you cold?"

"It's just the rain and wind," she responded. "I'm okay." Her tone was so certain that he almost believed her. Almost.

"Considering the days are usually hot, that's not a surprise," Trenchpaw meowed, pushing himself into an upright sitting position. He remained that way in order to collect himself, to really try and figure out what he was doing. Sleep still pulled at the back of his mind, but he fought it.

It wasn't that he minded falling asleep in the forest; he often did when he was out training at night by himself. Sometimes he would never return to camp, only doing so at dawn. But he had always been alone. He wasn't sure how he felt with another cat there, much closer than even the apprentices' den. So what made him end up in this situation? It frustrated Trenchpaw that he couldn't figure it out.

He looked down at where her approximate location was, more aware of scent and touch than sight. He was ever too aware of those. Clenching his teeth with a short sigh, he sunk back into a resting position, facing away from her but letting his back press against hers. She was cold and he knew it—knew she was lying. While any other cat might have believed her, he was all too aware of liars.

The air around them was very still, and was only broken when Nimblepaw responded, "…Thank you."

Trenchpaw squeezed his eyes shut. Not a moon ago he was challenging Nimblepaw, criticizing her form and style in battle training. Then, tonight, he was frustrated at her refusal to take his advice into consideration. But now, he feared there was something definitely wrong with him. He wasn't even sure if he could consider her a friend—wasn't even sure that was what he wanted. "Friend" was a lot different than "acquaintance."

The tabby was not used to being so close to another cat; he could hardly recall a time before early kithood, and that was hard enough for him to remember. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he felt embarrassed. He knew humiliation, but not embarrassment. It flooded his body with warmth and only made him notice her presence more.

Nimblepaw's words of thanks only made his unknown feelings more pronounced. He attempted a growl, but his words came out as more of a distracted murmur.

"Shut up…"


	3. Breaking Dawn

**PHOTOGRAPH**

They said she was too good to get tangled up with a tom like him. She had her life in order, and she was ready to become a great warrior that her Clan could be proud of—but life is a funny thing, and sometimes it has something better in mind.

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 **Author's Note:** I received wonderful reviews for both chapters since I posted chapter 2. Thank you to all who reviewed and showed their interest in the story! She only has one story posted so far, but you should check out my friend Nifty (NiftyShark) who participated in this RP-her writing is amazing. (: Anyway, onto the next chapter!

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 **Breaking Dawn  
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If it wasn't for Trenchpaw's sudden movement beside her, Nimblepaw might not have woken up so easily.

It was only when he continued to shift that she slowly opened her eyes. The first thing she noticed was that her sleeping place of choice did not feel like her nest, and the view that she had looking out did not look like the camp. The memory of why they were there in the first place was slow to hit her compared to how she might normally recall events, and she slowly lifted herself into a sitting position, trying to recollect her thoughts.

Despite the confusion of the situation, when she looked at Trenchpaw, only one question hit her. "What time is it?"

She had a training session with Raggedstar this morning! Just as well, If the Clan—if Raggedstar—found out that both of them were away from camp, he would have a word. Not only were they outside of camp too early for patrols, but they had also been out since the night before. Some cat was likely to notice that both of their nests hadn't been slept in.

Trenchpaw looked unconcerned, and his brows creased at her question. "Sunrise," he replied, flicking his tail to the pink sky. "Why, does that matter?" He turned back to her with a lick of his shoulder and a flick of his tail.

Nimblepaw shook out her fur, only then noticing the tangles that hadn't been taken care of last night. The memory made her avert her gaze, but she attempted to push down the feeling with her words. "I just don't want the Clan to worry. Especially Raggedstar." With no immediate response from Trenchpaw, she sighed. "I didn't think we'd fall asleep..."

The she-cat felt slightly irritated and flustered that Trenchpaw kept staring at her—it was almost as though she had grown two heads. Was it so unusual that she didn't want to get into trouble? Apparently to him it was.

"Well, it happened, so there's nothing that can be done," he said.

Again, she was reminded of the encounter that he had with the RavenClan patrol—after catching a rabbit that had scurried over the RavenClan border, he attempted to try and take it back to the AspenClan patrol, leading both Clans to unsheathe her claws on each other. With that in mind, and looking at him now, it was easier to believe that he didn't really think too much about consequences.

The fact that he had yet to even look at her spoke volumes, and it only just occurred to him that the events of last night might have made him a bit uncomfortable. "I can try to hunt if you want to clean up," he offered cautiously, and suddenly, it felt as though she could feel his discomfort as well. It wasn't a nice feeling, but she almost felt empathy for him.

Nimblepaw was significantly less concerned about what had happened last night-or at least, that was what she told herself. She had learned to push away things that seemed awkward or uncomfortable, or things that required her to sort through her own feelings. She thought that, maybe, if she didn't make it out to be a big deal, he wouldn't feel the need to block her out so much.

"Go for it," she said, trying to reassure herself that they'd get back to camp soon and that she didn't have to worry about that right now. It looked like they still had some time before patrols were sent out, anyway.

"Okay," Trenchpaw meowed, taking a step from the overhang and into the pale dawn, and leaving Nimblepaw alone.

The fawn tabby had taken more notice of her pelt after he had departed, and she spent a great deal of effort smoothing it down after being ruffled by the rain. It provided a nice distraction as she sorted through the less intrusive thoughts that ran through her head.

It didn't take her long, and she was already grooming her tail by the time Trenchpaw returned, carrying a small mouse. "This is all there was."

When he had dropped it at her paws, she looked at him dumbly, struck with a thought that he was... offering it to her. She wanted to be sure, though. "Go 'head and eat, then," she told him, a subtle nudge for him to take it for himself.

Nimblepaw was surprised at the intensity in his blue eyes as they met her own. "I found another one," he said. "You should take this one." He pushed it closer to her with his paw. "We can head back to camp after you eat it."

The she-cat met his gaze straight on once more, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu. They had done the same thing the previous day, and it seemed like it was more of a power of wills—and maybe stubbornness too. This time, however, Nimblepaw could not keep up, and she finally looked down, giving in.

"Okay," she replied, unable to keep at least a little hesitance out of her voice. "...thanks." She still wasn't sure if he appreciated her verbal thanks, but it felt good to say it. She ate the mouse fairly quickly, as it _was_ pretty small, but she was still thankful nonetheless.

Trenchpaw nodded curtly. "The terrain is all wet and muddy, so it might be hard, or at least slow, to get back to camp. We should return as soon as you're ready."

Nimblepaw had figured as much, but she hadn't really anticipated just how much mud there was right outside of the shelter. Maybe she got too comfortable and assumed that when she woke up everything would be bright and beautiful. While the sky definitely showed that, the ground wasn't a pretty sight. "They couldn't have made this easy for us," she muttered quietly. They certainly weren't getting back to camp without muddy paws.

"Perhaps not," Trenchpaw mewed, turning away so they he could step outside away from the shelter. Nimblepaw watched as his paws sank into the mud, noting the amount of effort it took just to take a few steps.

"This might take a little more time than anticipated," he said to her, and Nimblepaw nodded along without much thought. At first, she thought his silence was a result of his focus being put on freeing his paws, but when she finally looked up, she found that he was looking straight at her. "Are you going to need help?"

The she-cat didn't answer him right away as she wanted to experience it for herself before making a "I think I'm good," she said as she stepped in the mud herself. Following in Trenchpaw's pawsteps was a bit easier, but she knew it wouldn't be that easy when she felt herself sink into a particularly deep section of the mud. Pulling away, she noticed her belly fur becoming caked with the sloppy substance, sighing at the realization that she'd have to probably jump into the stream to become clean again.

"This is disgusting," she hissed with distaste. Playing in the rain with her sister was one thing, but trying to move through sticky mud was another.

She knew very well that Trenchpaw had stopped to watch her, and a part of her just wanted him to keep moving so he didn't have to witness her struggling. The she-cat heard him clear his throat before stating, "The area here is deep." She glanced in the direction he pointed, and then nodded. "Just… be careful," the tabby grunted.

She heeded Trenchpaw's warning about the area to avoid, and carefully moved around the spot. Thankfully, she seemed to have found her footing, and was able to move at a better pace with the mud not dragging her down.

It only took one misstep to screw it up.

The she-cat suddenly sunk down on her right side, the mud pulling her down into a position that she could not get herself out of. She attempted to use her other paw to push away and try to pull herself out, but that proved to be even worse as she was now stuck on the other side as well. The mud now caked her belly and she could feel parts of it that had gotten on her pelt.

"Uh..." The apprentice looked back and forth frantically, but there was no denying that she was entirely stuck. "Trenchpaw..." she hissed, annoyed that straight after denying it, she was now forced to ask for the one thing she swore she never would. "I need help..." Her ears burned.

Nimblepaw watched him pause—possibly unsure of what to do—before finally answering, "Okay." His voice was even and almost unconcerned. Placing his paws carefully, he approached her slowly, wincing slightly from what she assumed was the cold. When he eventually reached her, she wondered why he didn't immediately help her. She was ready to ask him what he would do and what she could do to help.

"…Sorry," he murmured.

The question of "why?" was just at the tip of her tongue, but she was unable to voice her question before he leaned past her and fastened his teeth into her scruff. The grip was tight enough to make her wince, and adding on her weight and the mud attempting to keep her trapped within it, it wasn't a particularly comfortable experience. Thankfully, though, she began to regain the feeling in her front legs, and with that, she was able to pull the rest of her body out of the sticky substance.

She almost panicked when she nearly collided with Trenchpaw, causing him to stumble backwards, but thankfully he was able to stay balanced and keep his paws from slipping into the same trap that she had gotten herself into. Trenchpaw sniffed at it disdainfully, while Nimblepaw merely wrinkled her nose in distaste.

There wasn't much said between them as Trenchpaw started moving again, and paying attention to where she could walk without slipping, she followed the path that he took and soon caught up to him without any further problems. The lack of any communication did get to her a bit, though, and she couldn't stop herself from showing her thanks—regardless of whether or not he wanted it.

"Thank you," she said.

Trenchpaw looked back at her, and that was the first time she felt comfortable enough to meet his eyes head-on. They remained very still as the words sunk in. Nimblepaw was ready to keep moving, convinced he wouldn't give her any acknowledgement, but it seemed like the past couple days were just full of surprises.

"…Yeah, I guess."


	4. Washed Away

**PHOTOGRAPH**

They said she was too good to get tangled up with a tom like him. She had her life in order, and she was ready to become a great warrior that her Clan could be proud of—but life is a funny thing, and sometimes it has something better in mind.

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 **Author's Note:** Thank you to everyone who reviewed-Nifty, BrightMind, Featherbloom, and the two guests. You guys really motivate me to keep popping out these chapters. With that, here's the next one. (:

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 **Washed Away  
**

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Trenchpaw peered down at the clear water.

It looked to be about the length of half a forelimb, and poising at the edge of the bank, he hopped in and hissed in surprise. It was icy cold! He barely wanted to stand in it as he was, the frigid water swirling around his legs. The thought of dipping his head under was quickly dismissed.

He glanced up at Nimblepaw along the edge of the bank. Her eyes were closed as she leaped into the cold water. When she did not resurface, Trenchpaw knew that he couldn't just wade in. Gritting his teeth, he ducked under himself. He was quite surprised to feel just how cold the bone-numbing water was around his face, and quickly popped back up to breath, shaking his head to clear the excess water from his eyes and ears.

While the icy water still seeped through his pelt, the sight of the mud being washed from his pelt was somewhat satisfying.

The ruddy tabby waited patiently for Nimblepaw to resurface, and once she did, she let out a small laugh. "It's really cold." She let out a small laugh.

Trenchpaw cocked his head uncertainly. "Yes. Is that funny?" he questioned, pulling himself out of the creek as he did so, with water dripping down his legs. With a shiver, he shook out his pelt and began trying to dry his fur, his limbs numb from the chill.

She only laughed; something that she might have considered to be a valid response. Trenchpaw closed his eyes as he dried himself, allowing her to have her fun. He wasn't sure what he'd do after this. He had nothing to do in camp, at least. Getting a tangled patch of fur behind his shoulders, he cracked open one eye to see what Nimblepaw was doing.

It happened so quickly that he didn't have time to react.

His eyes widened as a fawn-colored blur flashed towards him, and before he knew what occurred he tumbled back into the stream. He at least had the sense to close his mouth and not shout in surprise as his head went under.

Only after a few moments did the tabby pull his head up to the surface and take in a large breath. His vision was somewhat blurred as the water dripped into his eyes, but he still turned to glare at Nimblepaw.

"What was that for?" he asked pointedly, confusion twirling within him. Was she playing with him?

The smug grin on her face turned into an ugly frown as she looked back at him. Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say. "I thought it would be fun," she said simply as she pulled herself out of the water, shaking out her fur. "Sorry."

The she-cat didn't appear particularly offended by his words, but Trenchpaw still was at a loss of what to do. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when she pulled away. His mouth remained agape momentarily and he felt a little ruddy tom wasn't completely sure what to do. He had never had a cat talk to him in such a way.

He hauled himself out of the water after the she-cat, staring at her back. Recalling her words, he wasn't sure he was able to remember the last time he had fun. Fur plastered down by water, Trenchpaw called after her. "W-were you having fun?" His voice was interrupted by a shiver.

Large amber eyes looked back at Trenchpaw, surprisingly apologetic despite not being necessary. "I had fun," she replied. "But it doesn't matter."

Fun. Not many cats wanted to do anything fun with him, as far as he knew anyway. What made her want to? Still feeling strange, Trenchpaw walked closer to her, blue eyes watching carefully. Nothing much changed with her body language, but Nimblepaw definitely wasn't emitting the same aura she had before. She seemed a little bit closed off now. "Doesn't matter?" he questioned, voice quiet.

He shook his head as he tried desperately to understand why she reacted as she did, walking to her shoulder and stopping when his mouth was next to her ear. "Why not?" he asked. After a moment, he added, "…Am I too stoic?"

"No," she said immediately, looking back at him with an unflinching gaze. "No, you're not too stoic. You're not too much of anything. It was stupid of me to do that. I'm sorry."

Pulling away, Trenchpaw studied the back of her head as she bumbled on. "I see," he replied as she finished. "…Interesting to know you think so kindly of me."

He truly wasn't sure what to make of it. Really… he wasn't really sure what to make of _anything_ anymore.

Feeling slightly impulsive, he inched closer again, gently touching his nose to the back of her head experimentally. He couldn't tell how soft it was considering it was slick with water. Sighing, he moved to touch her ear before stepping away quickly and striding past as if nothing had happened. He didn't even stop to see her reaction.

"W-wait up," she stammered, trotting to catch up with him as they were heading in the direction of camp.

Trenchpaw slowed down a little bit, only because his fur was still soaked with water, and the wind racing past him made him shake. Although cold, he questioned why it wasn't just the wind alone that made him do that. The heat returned under his fur again.

He slowed down further as Nimblepaw called to him, but he kept his gaze forward. The fact that it was the first time he initiated physical contact made his head spin. Why did he do things like that? Why did he ever act on such mouse-brained impulses? Why was he so… unlike himself?

A little fearful almost, the ruddy tabby had doubts as to whether he could handle going back to camp or not at the current moment.

Trenchpaw stopped in his tracks rather suddenly. The familiar scents of their Clanmates rushed to greet him, and a feeling entered him that he couldn't place. Shooting a sideways glance at Nimblepaw, he presumed that she was eager to get back to camp. He did not feel that way though, so he took a few steps back. "I assume you want to go back to camp now?" he asked, earning a confused glance. "…If so, you can go. I don't think I'm ready yet. You may as well make it look like you were there the whole time. Don't want to worry anyone," the tabby spoke rapidly.

"You're not... coming back to camp?" she asked, tipping her head.

"I don't think I should yet." Trenchpaw glanced down at her. "Cats are bound to see us walk in together—perhaps the dawn patrol is leaving just now. What if they saw us walking in together, so early? Will they not just figure we were out together at night?"

Realizing what he said, he flushed and averted his gaze momentarily. He didn't even really give her the chance to get a word in. "I won't be missed, don't worry. And—" he stopped to look down at his own still-sodden fur, "—you may want to dry yourself off first, before you go." The sky was becoming a milkier pink as they spoke, and faint orange light could be seen sparkling through the trees.

He silently begged for her to not ask questions, and this time around, his prayers were apparently answered. "Oh," she said. "...Okay. I'll head back to camp and dry off. I'll see you... later?"

The ruddy tabby was already prepare to walk away, but was stopped by her sudden question. "Yeah. See you later," Trenchpaw meowed hurriedly before turning around and disappearing through the trees.

Many questions swirled within his mind, but most desperately, he wanted to know why he could no longer recognize himself.


	5. Fleeting Moment

**PHOTOGRAPH**

They said she was too good to get tangled up with a tom like him. She had her life in order, and she was ready to become a great warrior that her Clan could be proud of—but life is a funny thing, and sometimes it has something better in mind.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I'm glad to see some familiar faces in the reviews, and I want to thank the new reviewers for checking out this story! It's good to have you. (: Without further adieu, here's chapter five!

* * *

 **Fleeting Moment  
**

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Nimblepaw couldn't remember falling asleep the night before. She remembered Raggedstar telling her to rest up, and that they'd get back to more strenuous training soon, but she didn't know how much she needed that break until given the chance. The only thing she could recall was slipping away to her nest a bit earlier than usual and listening to the mindless chatter of the warriors coming back from patrol.

Unknown to her mentor, she had started training on her own time, slightly bothered that Trenchpaw barely gave her a second glance in the past few days. He was probably unaware, but she did notice the looks he had sent her way whenever she would return to camp with a sour expression after failing in her attempts to master that battle technique. She knew what he was probably thinking, and paid no mind to it.

After their overnight experience, he stopped looking altogether. It bothered her enough to where she didn't want to be caught staring in the middle of camp, and so kept herself busy with other tasks. The looks had become so normal that it seemed too strange to go without them.

Like any cat, however, she grew tired, but unlike her Clanmates, she didn't think to take it easy. She had basically dropped into her nest without so much as a warning.

The only reason she was brought back to consciousness was because of a quiet shuffling in the den. She assumed one of her fellow apprentices had decided to get up, and she had been prepared to simply turn away and return to the world of sleep. What she _wasn't_ prepared for, however, was the sharp pain that came from claws catching her tail.

"Ouch!" The she-cat growled, pulling her tail in close. Now wide awake, she looked up to find the culprit, eyes widening in surprise when she found that it was her sister that had woken her.

"Sorry!" the pale tabby squeaked.

"Fennelpaw...?" Nimblepaw asked, letting out a huge yawn as she stood up straight. "Where are you going?"

Fennelpaw growned. "Um… nowhere in particular…" she started. The she-cat looked oddly restless, and based on her next words, it seemed like that was exactly the problem. "It just feels like I have ants in my pelt. I know Marshflower and I are supposed to be training soon, but I… I don't know. I just need to get away for a bit. Please don't tell."

Nimblepaw's expression turned sympathetic. Her sister's actions weren't anything out of the ordinary, as she always had somewhat of a nervous and paranoid vibe to her when she was faced with a task. Knowing this, she couldn't really say anything to her that might provide an immediate solution. Instead, she pulled herself out of her nest with a bit of effort. She desperately wanted to return to her nest, but right now, she had a job to do. "Nothing to tell if I'm there with you," she said.

A purr rumbled in Fennelpaw's throat, and Nimblepaw rolled her eyes as her sister pressed her nose to hers. "Great!" she whispered excitedly, aware of their sleeping Clanmates. "Then let's go." The she-cat proved to be a lot more careful this time around, and managed to weave in between the cats remaining in the den with relative ease.

Nimblepaw followed behind, heaving a great sigh. _She probably did that on purpose._

ooOoo

"You're not usually this tired."

The sisters hadn't gotten far from camp before the silence of the forest was broken. As a more social individual, Fennelpaw couldn't go long without striking up a conversation, and unfortunately for Nimblepaw, it was on a topic that she knew would be best to be avoided.

"Did Raggedstar wake you up late for some night training or something?" Fennelpaw asked, twitching her whiskers.

Nimblepaw obviously wasn't the best at staying alert when her body was tired, but she didn't think it would be asked about. She didn't want to lie to her sister, but she also didn't feel like she could explain what had happened in a way that made sense. "I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't fall back asleep." Half of that was true, at least. "I guess I was just thinking of a lot. Battle moves, patrols, you know." She figured it sounded like a good enough explanation, as her routine usually included training or patrolling.

Fennelpaw nodded. "Yeah, I totally get it," she mewed, but from the look on her sister's face, it was clear that a part of her still questioned her. "Are you feeling alright lately, though? Maybe just a little stressed?" she asked. Looking down, she added, "I'm sorry you had to come with me. You could have gotten some sleep."

"Yeah, no, I wanted to come with you," Nimblepaw said quickly, nodding her head to reassure Fennelpaw. "I think maybe... I've been running around a bit too much." That much was true as well. "Doing too many things at once doesn't really leave a cat room to breathe. You know what I mean?"

It took a moment before Fennelpaw tipped her head, as though acknowledging the thought. "Yeah… You should just take it easy for a few days. If you have to train one morning, come back to camp after and relax instead of jumping on a patrol. It might help you clear your head," she suggested.

Nimblepaw wished things came as easily to her as it apparently did to her sister. "It's not as simple as that," she sighed. Some days she had to train, which was really unavoidable, and with their current problems, the Clan couldn't afford to lose a helping paw in hunting or patrolling.

"I don't want to make things harder on other cats. It's why I try to help as often as possible-so they don't have to take on as much weight. I can deal with it. Sleep is the least of my worries. I can rest when the Clan is fed." The apprentice nodded to herself, reaffirming her strong belief, but in the back of her mind, she couldn't help but think about how Trenchpaw had been avoiding her, and her need to do more just to distract herself from it.

She was almost afraid that Fennelpaw would notice something apart from her normal fretting over things that needed to be done, but she was lucky and her sister simply nodded. "Okay," Fennelpaw meowed dismissively. Her tail tip flicked back and forth as they walked, and Nimblepaw found it to be the best distraction she could get in the situation. She wasn't ready to tell her sister about the source of her anxiety.

They both looked up, watching the trees with little thought as they passed. It was Fennelpaw's sudden gasp that brought Nimblepaw back to reality. Looking ahead of her, she observed the mud that coated Fennelpaw's upper limb. "Ew," the she-cat meowed with disgust, shaking her paw.

"It's rained quite a bit the last few nights," she said, padding carefully through the substance. The moment was giving her flashbacks of her slipping in the mud herself, and Trenchpaw having to come help her. She felt her face flush and turned away as if to hide it. "Should probably pay a little more attention, Fennelpaw." She let out a short, nervous laugh to shake off the awkward feelings that kept her from appearing normal.

The quick flapping of wings and the squawk of a bird caught their attention, and while Fennelpaw looked in one direction, Nimblepaw looked in the other. She scanned the branches of the trees at the edge of the clearing, but could not spot anything. It was when she felt her sister tense up and relax beside her that she thought to look the other way.

What she found was the last thing—no, the last _cat_ —she wanted to see.

"Oh. Hi, Trenchpaw," Fennelpaw greeted.


	6. Eyes Meet

**PHOTOGRAPH**

They said she was too good to get tangled up with a tom like him. She had her life in order, and she was ready to become a great warrior that her Clan could be proud of—but life is a funny thing, and sometimes it has something better in mind.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I've recently posted a journal on my profile with important information regarding my activity, so I would really appreciate it if you guys could check it out. I don't have much else to say, so enjoy this chapter~

* * *

 **Eyes Meet**

* * *

There was an awkward silence that passed between the three cats as they exchanged glances.

Trenchpaw looked at the two she-cats uncertainly, not sure what to say at first. It wasn't like he could inform them that they scared off his bird, right? That wouldn't come off nicely. At that thought, he stopped. Since when had being nice mattered to him? The tabby felt a little sick—something was definitely wrong with him. He had tried running and now hunting to see if it'd fix him, but nothing he was trying seemed to work.

Registering that Fennelpaw spoke to him, he shifted his eyes to hers. "What are you doing?" His voice was cool and gruff. Trenchpaw avoided looking at Nimblepaw any more closely than he did Fennelpaw.

"...We were just out for a walk." Fennelpaw replied, tail flicking as her gaze moved from Nimblepaw to him. "What are _you_ doing?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and tilting her head curiously.

"Huh," Trenchpaw scoffed, eyeing Fennelpaw as if she was a mere leaf in the breeze. Suddenly remembering the bird, he fought to control the anger that he found rising up again, but seeing Nimblepaw watching him from the corner of his eye made him shrink back mentally. "Hunting," Trenchpaw answered her again blandly.

His eyes strayed to Nimblepaw again, confused as to why she was being so quiet. She seemingly had no problem with staring at him, and he began to wonder if she had told Fennelpaw about what had happened between the two of them. He felt a rare swirling of anxiety. If Fennelpaw knew...who else knew?

The tom continued this apparent stand-off as Fennelpaw lifted her chin, furrowing her eyebrows. She held his gaze for a few moments, but then her ears flattened and she quickly turned away, lowering her head soon after. "Maybe we could hunt with you?" she suggested hesitantly. "Three noses are better than one, and Nimblepaw and I might as well be productive, anyways."

Trenchpaw was ready to respond, but pulled back in surprise when Nimblepaw beat him to it. "She's right," the she-cat finally said. "We weren't really doing anything. Maybe we can find some prey to bring back to camp." While Trenchpaw couldn't say he knew her that well, he was experienced enough to know when a cat wasn't being completely honest. Nimblepaw sounded as though she was lying through her teeth.

It would have been so easy to just deny them both the chance to join him, but that would only make things more suspicious. Besides, they _did_ owe him that bird—unbeknownst to them, of course. Making up his mind on a new plan, he straightened and stood tall. "Will you both listen to me, then? Because I had something in mind. We will need cooperation to take it down, though." His sharp claws unsheathed a few times in anticipation.

Fennelpaw looked uncertain at his request, and looked at her sister as though asking permission. Without much of a response coming from Nimblepaw, however, she seemingly gave in. "…Sure," she said.

Nimblepaw appeared to be on the verge of just walking away, but to Trenchpaw's surprise, she eventually agreed as well. "I guess so," she said, shrugging nonchalantly. The lack of any real emotions that would give him an idea of what the she-cat was thinking annoyed him, but he was able to shake it off quickly when his plan moved to the forefront of his mind.

"Great," he replied, his eyes sharpening as his plan was set into motion. He pretended to not notice their discomfort as he turned around to take the lead. With a flick of his tail, he headed towards the edge of AspenClan territory, where he knew a few high rocks were.

They weren't far, and soon enough he was padding up to one of the rocks that dotted the territory. With a short nod to himself, he turned towards the two female apprentices that trailed behind him. "We're going to hunt large birds," he informed them.

Unsurprisingly, Fennelpaw immediately took a step back, looking rather alarmed. "But isn't that kind of dangerous?" she protested. "We haven't been trained how to catch large birds!"

Her eyes kept moving from him to her sister, and Trenchpaw had to bite his lip to avoid giving a sharp response. Instead, he allowed her to continue to voice her worries.

"…and not to mention, they could easily carry us off!"

The whole conversation would have been a lot more amusing had it not been for the irritated and borderline frustrated look that Nimblepaw was sending him. She looked to be contemplating her options. "We'll be okay," she finally said. "There's three of us. Even if there _was_ trouble, we would take care of it quickly enough."

Trenchpaw's blue eyes were chilly as he took in Fennelpaw, before looking back at Nimblepaw. "Of course we'll be fine. They're just birds, no matter the size. And birds are prey. Imagine how the Clan would react if we brought something that large home to the empty fresh-kill pile."

The idea of bringing home even more prey for the Clan seemed to have motivated Nimblepaw to agree completely, whereas Fennelpaw still looked doubtful.

Sighing, the tom sat down and shrugged nonchalantly. "If you're worried, you can run back to camp," he said, annoyed that something he considered a manageable task seemed to be out of their range of abilities. "We AspenClan cats were meant to hunt birds. We can take them down."

Finally, Fennelpaw lifted her chin. "You're right. They're just birds, nothing to worry about. No way _I'm_ running back to camp."

From the twitch of her tail and her eyes flickering back and forth, it was clear that the she-cat wasn't as confident as she let on, but Trenchpaw thought it best to ignore it.

"Okay," Nimblepaw said. "Where are we going to find them?"

Trenchpaw smirked. "Here," he answered, flicking his tail towards the tall rocks behind him and the surrounding area. "Birds roost here. We should be able to catch one." Standing up again, he padded past the rocks to the other side, expecting the she-cats to follow him.

Almost immediately, he noticed a large hawk perched at a point of the rock a short distance away—just enough for them not to be heard. He took note of the small indents in many of the rocks that could be used as pawholds. The bird preened its shoulder feathers, oblivious to the cats below it. Trenchpaw nodded to it. "Who wants to climb up to it?" he whispered.

Fennelpaw stepped forward first, and for a moment he thought she was going to volunteer. But of course, she began to question his plans once more. "What do we do once we're up there?"

"I suppose we try and catch it," Nimblepaw said before he could say a word, looking almost…amused. It was very different from the distant looks she had given him earlier. Then again… she was looking towards her sister when she spoke. Not him.

Not a heartbeat later, the pale she-cat stepped forward, nearly passing him. "I'll go," she offered.

Trenchpaw shouldn't have been surprised Nimblepaw volunteered; it fact, he wasn't. But as soon as she spoke up, he felt a knot twist in his stomach. He found it strange, as there was no real reason for it. His eyes were wary, however, as he stepped aside to let her pass.

The tom watched as she approached the rock, taking her time as she worked her way upwards, only stumbling slightly. Trenchpaw clenched his teeth as the bird jerked its head to the side, and he knew then that there was more than a slight chance that she would miss it.

Trenchpaw's blue eyes widened as Nimblepaw leaped at the hawk from a pawhold that was not completely at the top, her teeth sinking into the birds back and claws grabbing anywhere else that she could. His muscles tensed, prepared to assist the she-cat.

He hadn't moved his gaze from where Nimblepaw was struggling, and it was Fennelpaw that finally brought his attention back as Fennelpaw raced toward the rock. He shook his head, his brain finally registering that the hawk was going down. With an explosive leap, Fennelpaw launched herself upward, clenching her jaws around one of the bird's wings while Nimblepaw remained on its back.

Trenchpaw felt his warrior skills kick in, and he relished in the feeling of adrenaline pumping through his veins as he raced towards the rock to do the same as Fennelpaw. The one thing that stopped him was change in position of Nimblepaw—before, she had a solid hold on its back, but after her right claw unhooked from the bird's back, her body swung around and left her clinging to its underside.

The tabby tom watched in horror as the bird's talons took a swipe at Nimblepaw's unshielded belly, only digging in slightly before being set off balance by Fennelpaw. He saw the moment that the hawk lost its balance, and felt the vibration in the earth and the echo that the loud 'thud' had left.

As instinct would have it, Trenchpaw pounced squarely on its back after realizing that it had simple shaken the two she-cats off. He didn't dare take a glance behind him, but he knew well enough that the sisters were down for the count.

His weight kept the bird down as his sharp claws tore through a wing. As it let out a screech, he took advantage of its position and sank his teeth into the back of its neck. The hawk flailed and convulsed for a brief moment before it finally stopped. Trenchpaw stepped off it, as though disturbed. His white muzzle was stained red from the kill.

His attention quickly turned to the she-cat lying nearest to him. Peering down at the fawn she-cat, a sharp flash of a feeling unknown to him almost rocked him off his paws, and he took a moment to recover. The ruddy tabby quickly peered over at Fennelpaw, recalling how the bird went down and her with it, but his mind was on a single track. Did Nimblepaw need help?

 _His_ help?

"Nimblepaw?" he asked cautiously, noting the stillness of her body, but after a moment observing her, he realized that she was simply trying to catch her breath.

She was silent for a few moments, and Trenchpaw remained so as well before she was finally able to collect herself. After a few more tense moments, she was finally able to lift herself to her paws, wincing at what could only have been the pain from her wounds. Looking up, she acknowledged Trenchpaw,

"I'm alright," Nimblepaw reassured him. "Fennelpaw? You okay?" she called out.

Fennelpaw gave a soft grunt in response, taking a bit longer to bring herself to her paws. Trenchpaw watched, just to be sure she was okay as well, but was surprised when his eyes settled on Nimblepaw as he turned. She was staring straight at him, a puzzled look in her amber gaze.

"Er… right," he coughed, bringing himself to his full height to take control of the situation. "We need to get this back to camp, then you two can get treated for your wounds." Taking a step closer to the hawk, Trenchpaw lowered his head and pushed it with his nose. "I'll slide under it, you two carry the wings," he instructed adamantly.

The she-cats followed his directions without much question. As the two sisters slowly picked up the hawk by its wings, Trenchpaw crouched and placed himself under it. Carefully standing up, he let his shoulders and back carry most of the weight. He took care to avoid the now-dangling talons, but just the mere sight of them reminded him of just how much more damage it could have done to Nimblepaw if Fennelpaw hadn't acted fast.

"Make sure the wings don't drag." His voice was tight as he balanced the bird on his shoulders.

The trek back to camp was long and fairly uneventful, but the relief that came with it was almost overpowering. Upon approaching the fresh-kill pile, Trenchpaw unceremoniously dumped the bird atop it. He couldn't help but notice that there was barely anything there besides their catch.

"That was crazy," Nimblepaw said suddenly, settling down right where she stood. The she-cat must have been feeling her wounds right then, if her pained expression was anything to go by, but she seemed pretty content to remain where she was. "I feel pretty accomplished, but I think I could sit here for a moon or two."

"Me, too," Fennelpaw agreed as she laid down next to Nimblepaw. "I can't believe we actually did that." she murmured after a few heartbeats.

Trenchpaw felt a little out of place when the two sisters curled up with one another. He stood to the side awkwardly, feeling envious and even a little lonely that he didn't have that amount of comfort with anyone. He didn't even have a littermate.

Averting his gaze from them, he focused on the hawk. By now, curious eyes stuck to it and some cats were coming up to investigate. It would probably feed the Clan for a day, and he did feel the distinct feeling of pride within him. He almost considered joining his Clanmates as they surrounded the impressive catch, and maybe even taking part in the feast that would no doubt happen. But the feelings of loneliness tied in with the strange emotions from earlier, he found that he no longer had the appetite.

He couldn't bring himself to do anything more than watch.


	7. How to Live

**PHOTOGRAPH**

They said she was too good to get tangled up with a tom like him. She had her life in order, and she was ready to become a great warrior that her Clan could be proud of—but life is a funny thing, and sometimes it has something better in mind.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** It's been quite a while, and I do apologize. By now you might know that Tainted Line has been put on hiatus because of my lack of any muse for writing. Seriously, I haven't written anything fanfic-related in months. I can't determine when that might change, but for now, here is chapter seven of Photograph. Love you guys and the support you give. 3

* * *

 **How to Live**

* * *

Nimblepaw was punctual—never one to sleep in. In her eyes, she was wasting the day away if she ever did so. That was why, when she heard her name being called softly from outside the den, she immediately lifted her head. Had she missed training?

"Nimblepaw?"

"Huh... what?"

It definitely wasn't Raggedstar—that much was clear now.

She lifted her head in confusion before her eyes settled on the tom opposite to her. "Trenchpaw?" She tipped her head, confused, as she moved to sit up. The simple task seemed a lot harder than usual, however, no doubt due to the lack of success with training over the past few days. In fact… the tom standing before her was one of the reasons for it.

"Uh..." Trenchpaw began as his gaze moved around the den. "If you're... not too busy..." he cleared his throat, looking painfully uncomfortable. "...I need to carry a few things, and it's too much for me to carry at once. Want to help?"

The she-cat had the choice to either agree to help him, or simply refuse and go back to sleep. But it was about time-past the time, in fact-that she woke up. Plus... she couldn't really help but feel a slight urge to go along with him, despite not knowing exactly what she was supposed to be doing. "I guess so," she said, ear twitching as she finally stood up. "What do you need help with?" She couldn't imagine what would be too much for him to carry, but she wasn't going to assume anything until he told her.

"Carrying things."

Nimblepaw creased her brow. That wasn't really the answer she was looking for, but Trenchpaw was already walking out of the den. She followed him hesitantly, surprised when he headed in the direction of the medicine den. She didn't know he was helping the medicine cat.

Entering the den itself, she saw him dividing herbs into two piles and struggling to pick up the third, shriveled pile of herbs and carry them under his chin. That was probably what he had to carry. With that cleared up, she couldn't help but let out a laugh at his attempts—it didn't look very comfortable. "You look really funny right now," she laughed, choosing to carry the herbs in her mouth instead. The bitter taste hit her hard, but she was able to ignore it for the most part, only letting her wince express her disgust.

Trenchpaw unsurprisingly ignored her, choosing to flick his tail at Mumblefall as he left the den. She gave the medicine cat a polite nod as she left, but she wasn't quite sure what the actual plan was.

Apparently her companion didn't either, because the moment they exited the camp, he asked, "Do you know where soft soil is?"

The question caught Nimblepaw off guard, but she knew the territory well enough to have some sort of idea. "Hmm," she mumbled, the herbs in her mouth keeping her from replying right away. She pictured the territory in her head, remembering that more than once she had stepped into soft soil where other plants were buried. It wasn't the hardest to figure out. Stopping for a moment and setting the herbs down, she said, "Maybe by the stream. There are a few trees there with soft soil near its roots."

Once again, Trenchpaw flicked his ear instead of giving her a verbal response, and changed his path so that they were heading towards the stream.

Bending down to pick up the herbs she had put down, Nimblepaw allowed Trenchpaw to take the lead. The stream wasn't far, and the ground beneath her paws became increasingly soft, a sign that they were approaching the area she had spoken about. She hadn't forgotten her last experience with Trenchpaw that took place a few days ago—she wondered if he was thinking about it, too.

Thankfully, he didn't speak about it, and she was relieved that she didn't have to say anything with the herbs in her mouth keeping her from doing so. With Trenchpaw taking one spot, the she-cat moved a couple fox-lengths away to bury the herbs in another spot where they could easily go. Digging away the top layer of the dirt, she placed the herbs in the small hole and covered them up with some ease.

"I'm glad to get that taste out of my mouth," she laughed, but did not look at Trenchpaw. It was becoming increasingly difficult to keep her face from reddening when she made direct eye contact. Instead of making things more awkward, she made her way to the stream not far off and soaked her paws in it, watching the dirt wash away from her fur.

Trenchpaw joined her moments later, padding down the slope in her direction and stopping at the water's edge. He stepped in the water gingerly and stood by her, but still gave her enough space.

She glanced at the tom, noting that he probably hadn't heard her, but she chose not to repeat herself. There wasn't much point to it. The feelings that she had pushed away before came back even stronger, and while she originally might have been able to control it, now she was being hit by it with more force than she could really hide. She wasn't a coward. She wasn't!

She was, however, less inclined to show her face, her expression being the prime evidence of her embarrassment. Trying to keep from looking at it in her reflection, she lightly dabbed the water with her paw, sending small ripples through the water.

"Are you… feeling okay...?"

Nimblepaw hadn't realized he was staring at her until she lifted her head. He looked confused—curious, even, but she still found that her thoughts were far too muddled to make much sense of anything. The she-cat lifted her head when she was finally able to compose herself. "Yes… yes, I'm fine," she said, but her forced smile was soon hidden as she ducked her head away, feeling her ears burn in embarrassment.

A shift in movement from beside her caught her attention, and she could pinpoint the tom's location as he moved closer just from how warm her pelt grew. While this was normal for her when hunting or fighting without knowing exactly where her opponent was, she was ten times more aware of her companion now, and her body tensed at this realization. She did not move, however. In all honesty, she wasn't completely sure she could. Instead, she felt the own chord in her snap and her curiosity overwhelm her embarrassment.

Slowly, and with a small twitch that showed her nervousness, she leaned to the side and back just a bit so that her fur brushed his pelt. So he was there after all.

Nimblepaw felt the rest of her weight fall into him as he closed the distance with a small pawstep to the side. Suddenly, she could no longer feel the water swirling around her paws. It was… a different feeling.

It was strange to describe the feelings she was currently experiencing. In one way, her mind had drawn a complete blank, and she couldn't form a complete thought. On the other hand, many thoughts seemed to be attempting to call her attention all at once. Comfort was something she only ever experienced from her siblings-especially her sister. But this was a different kind of comfort... special, in a way.

Her face flushed and her eyes couldn't hide it. She had tried so hard to put up a front. Be a "grown up" who could be trusted by the senior warriors of the Clan. Never before had she been able to trust, let go, and just feel.

It was different, but maybe different was what she needed.


	8. Trust Exercise

**PHOTOGRAPH**

They said she was too good to get tangled up with a tom like him. She had her life in order, and she was ready to become a great warrior that her Clan could be proud of—but life is a funny thing, and sometimes it has something better in mind.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Here you go my sugar plums. I want to thank everyone who reviewed-especially those who have just discovered this story. c:

* * *

 **Trust Exercise**

* * *

Rooting his paws into the streambed, Trenchpaw felt a small smile tug at the corners of his mouth; the subtle fact that Nimblepaw accepted his coaxing sent him the message that she trusted him, more than words ever could. Knowing a cat trusted him felt strange. He hadn't thought it was even possible, and was never able to imagine what it might feel like.

He briefly wondered what made Nimblepaw feel comfortable around him. And why him, for that matter? There were likely nicer and more-friendly toms she could have chosen to get close to. The thought made him a little uncertain, and his insecurities began to return. Not wanting them to get in the way, he pushed them from his mind. He'd deal with those thought later.

Opening both eyes, he focused again on Nimblepaw. "We're still in the stream..." he reminded her gently.

The she-cat's eyes had been closed, but that came to an end when Trenchpaw spoke. Turning her head, she looked straight up at him, but had yet to move. "I know," she said, sighing deeply. "I don't wanna move."

Gazing back at Nimblepaw with eyes unlike his own, he hadn't thought that perhaps she was enjoying it as much as he was, despite the oddity of their location. He was surprised, though, when she disclosed that didn't want to move. The gleam in her amber eyes suggested to him that perhaps she was being stubbornly playful, and he thought momentarily on his options.

Recalling the situation from the last time they were there, he decided it was the best path he could take. It would be easy, since he was still supporting her. Carefully balancing his weight, he waiting a few silent moments before taking a few rapid steps backwards, letting her fall into the stream.

The she-cat predictably gasped in surprise, but when she fell over, he saw her wince. "I'm a mouse-brain..." she murmured, but Trenchpaw still caught it.

He dropped her in the shallows, where the water was barely above their paws, all the while wondering how that could have hurt her. The only thing it should have done was gotten her wet. He thought quickly, trying to piece together when she could have hurt herself.

Like a slap in the face, he quickly recalled yesterday. She had fallen after grappling with the hawk. Feeling stupid for forgetting and dejected for hurting her further, he stared dumbly at her, not sure what to do. He had ruined their moment. As she stood up, pelt soaked, he remained motionless. Did he help her? Would she even want it? Struggling to find words without sounding idiotic, he stunned himself when "sorry" came out, and nothing else. When did he ever say that before? Feeling hot, he stared down as his paws, which were now beginning to feel numb from the icy water.

Nimblepaw shook her fur to rid herself of the water dripping down her, and with only a big of extra effort, came to stand beside him. For the most part, she didn't seem too phased by her injury. "It's not your fault," she reassured him. "It just surprised me. It doesn't hurt a lot. That hawk was worth it."

"Hmmmm," Trenchpaw mumbled cautiously, watching Nimblepaw carefully. She seemed to be moving okay, with only a slight stiffness apparent to him. At her words, he had to wonder himself if the hawk was really worth it. It was only one bird, one that brought about several injuries. He shrugged glumly, in response, knowing she was trying to make light of the situation.

Trying to forget it, he focused his thoughts on the task at hand. Trenchpaw froze upon recalling that he never confirmed with Mumblefall what herbs he had to go and collect. He sighed forlornly—he was not in the mood to do anything related to the medicine cat. However, Raggedstar's words rang clearly in his head; he had to fulfill his punishment for apparently picking a fight with that RavenClan patrol.

He sighed loudly, and he turned to head back to camp, but before that he looked to Nimblepaw. "I need to go and find out what herbs to collect. You don't have to come with me."

"No, I'll help you," Nimblepaw responded quickly, her tail flicking his shoulder as she moved beside him.

He flinched slightly at the contact, and was rather surprised when she agreed to help him. She had done what he had asked, so he didn't understand why she'd want to put her time and effort into helping him with more of his chores. It was his punishment-not that she knew that, but still. It was a task for a medicine cat, not a warrior.

The thought made him grimace; it was as if he had just called himself a medicine cat. Feeling a little depressed, he met her amber eyes hesitantly as he started to lead the way back to camp. After a few more moments of tense silence, he finally asked what refused to leave his thoughts: "Why do you want to help me?"

Nimblepaw sighed, a small laugh escaping her and earning her a confused look from Trenchpaw. "Why wouldn't I?" she asked. "I'm not busy and I like helping cats. Isn't that reason enough?" Her voice wasn't sharp, but rather direct, and even a bit humorous. Trenchpaw was left even more confused.

"Uh... is it reason enough?" Trenchpaw repeated slowly. He had never helped cats just to help cats before. He began to wonder if that was something cats did in general, or if it was something only Nimblepaw did. He had never cared to observe cats for that reason, so he wasn't sure. The tabby tom was bored enough, and he didn't feel like dragging her into his... punishment, as unnecessary as he thought them to be.

"I mean, sure," she responded. "…Unless you don't need it. Or want it. I'd understand if you wanted to be alone."

Well, now he was stuck. "I, uh." Trenchpaw swallowed. "I might need it. And..." He flushed for the hundredth time in the last few days. "...I want it too." He resisted the urge to look away, continuing to keep one blue eye on Nimblepaw. He kept going, but why he did, he did not know. "It's my punishment, something I'm forced to do," he admitted. "So... I just don't see why you'd willingly do it."

Nimblepaw's expression turned to one of confusion, almost matching his, before it turned back to one of amusement. "Because, well... we're kinda friends," she said, and while she might have been able to hide it from other cats, Trenchpaw did notice the slight twitch of her paws. "It's my job to help you when you need it."

Eyes widening a little, Trenchpaw turned away, unable to meet her gaze, and unable to reply. No one had called them his friend before. He hadn't thought anyone would ever consider him anything more than just a fellow clanmate. Feelings he had never felt before rushed through him, stronger and stronger, and it threatened to bubble over his conscience. He was still struggling to comprehend what Nimblepaw said as well, so much so that he forgot to avoid a tree root sticking noticeably above the ground.

Snagging his paw on it, he stumbled and fell in a heap on the leafy floor, and it took Trenchpaw a moment to even recognize he had fallen. Sitting up, he made no move to stand as he waited for the unusual feelings flooding him to subside. He briefly registered Nimblepaw letting out a small laugh as she came to sit beside him.

"I trust you, you know," she said.

Trenchpaw still felt a bit dazed as he looked at her, taking her in in her entirety. The words were foreign to him, but they made him feel… good. And while he had never heard them before, it felt like they were meant to come off her lips.

He found himself believing her.


	9. Turning Tables

**PHOTOGRAPH**

They said she was too good to get tangled up with a tom like him. She had her life in order, and she was ready to become a great warrior that her Clan could be proud of—but life is a funny thing, and sometimes it has something better in mind.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I didn't want to wait, so here you go, guys. I think you'll like this one. c;

* * *

 **Turning Tables**

* * *

Nimblepaw felt a strange sense of pride that Trenchpaw appeared to trust her not just to speak his mind, but to also show how he felt. She embraced the feeling of his head resting on her shoulder, and she made no move to get back up to head back to camp. She was perfectly content to just sit like they had in the stream not long ago, although she couldn't help slipping in a small joke. "I bet you're procrastinating as long as you can so you don't have to run around collecting herbs," she chuckled.

"Mmmmm..." Trenchpaw hummed, as though actually considering her words. "…maybe."

Mindlessly sheathing and unsheathing her claws into the dirt, Nimblepaw almost missed the small shudder that came from the tom. Curious, she glanced at him. "Are you cold?" She briefly thought that moving closer would allow her to share body heat, but then she remembered that part of her fur was still damp.

"I'm not cold," he said after a moment. "I was just thinking about something." he meowed as he moved his head away. She wondered, for a moment, if she had offended him somehow, but from the look he gave her, it seemed like he was just trying to get comfortable. That didn't stop her from feeling a bit awkward, though.

"You wouldn't think that the stream would be so cold during greenleaf," she said hesitantly.

"I wonder why that is," he responded slowly, but for the most part, didn't give her much to work with. His gaze, however, slowly moved from her to the sky, and growing curious, she followed it, and noticed that it was growing darker with oncoming rain. It was still a good distance away, but if they were going to get anything done, it would be best not to wait around.

"I think we should head back and see what herbs we have to find," she suggested, standing up to stretch her legs. She grinned slightly as she felt the hesitation melt away in favor of her more confident persona. "Any other time I would be fine with sitting out in the rain, but I'm not up for searching for herbs when the ground is soaked. I'd rather not repeat having my paws stuck in the mud."

"Yeah, that makes sense," he agreed. Nimblepaw smiled with amusement when Trenchpaw flicked his tail for her to follow him, even though they were close enough to camp for her to know where to go.

From the number of times she had spent time with Trenchpaw, the she-cat was now starting to understand more of the little things he did—especially how he could grow embarrassed over certain things that she pretended not to notice as to not make him feel weird about it. But he made her feel strange too, and so she thought it couldn't hurt to be honest. Since it didn't seem like he was going to say anything, she decided to throw caution to the wind herself.

Trotting forward to catch up with him, her tail lightly flicked his nose as she moved in front to lead. "You're kinda cute when you're flustered." She let out a soft, light-hearted laugh as she moved at a faster pace ahead of him, putting more distance between the two.

She didn't regret it, and Nimblepaw found that the smile and the slight blush she wore had yet to leave her face. For once, she was oddly okay with it and didn't see much reason to try and hide it. She only started slowing down and allowing him to catch up when they neared the camp. When she moved through the entrance it didn't appear as if she had been running at all, and taking a deep breath—for more reasons than one—she stopped to wait for Trenchpaw.

When he finally entered, he gave her nothing more than a short, fleeting glance to tell her he was embarrassed. It gave her a small sense of satisfaction to know that it was her doing, and did well with holding in her laughter as Trenchpaw disappeared into the medicine den.

She didn't hear the whole conversation, but she managed to catch Mumblefall's hurried words and Trenchpaw's biting reply. She almost felt bad for the medicine cat—he was their age, and at that, fairly young to be handling his duties all by himself. Despite the fact that the skittish tom had trained with them for at least a moon, she knew that Trenchpaw had never really liked him. She didn't mean to, but she couldn't help but compare it to how he had treated her. The differences were striking, and made her feel strange all over again.

She had to push the memories down quickly in order to address Trenchpaw as he approached her once more, still appearing confused, but for a completely different reason. "Okay, so we have to look for a fuzzy blue-flowered herb and a sweet white-flowered one..." he trailed off, meeting her amber gaze with something akin to a pleading look.

"Are you sure?" she asked, cocking her head as the amusement returned. "You don't sound so sure." She could only imagine the clueless expression Trenchpaw must have worn while speaking to Mumblefall about the herbs. She couldn't claim to be any better, as she chose to become a warrior for a reason, but she could at least give it a shot and see if she could offer assistance towards finding them.

"I'm..." he began, and then sighed, "No, I'm not sure."

"I've seen a blue-flowered herb in quite a few places," Nimblepaw said, recalling the time when she and Raggedstar had toured their territory. "It shouldn't be that hard to find."

"Too difficult my tail," the tabby tom grumbled after she had finished, and she was almost surprised at his boldness. "I'm pretty sure you don't know any more than I do with herbs. All the plants look the same too. Green. How are we going to find any tiny flowers?"

Well… she had to agree with him on that. She probably didn't have any more knowledge of herbs than he did. But she was willing to try and help him out, wasn't she? That counted for something, didn't it?

"It also looks like it's going to rain really soon," Trenchpaw continued. "We should hurry before we…" The tom stopped speaking abruptly and gave a small cough, and Nimblepaw knew what he would say before he actually said it. "…get stuck in the rain again."

Nimblepaw tried to remain optimistic, and it came a little easier when she exploited the joy that came with teasing her companion. "Do you not like the rain?" she asked him, looking quite innocent, but the gleam of amusement in her eyes told otherwise.

He lowered his head quickly. "No, no… uh, rain is fine." The tom shot her a quick glance before setting off.

She kept up with him while her eyes set themselves the forest, her mind slowly settling on the task at hand. "I know that there are some ferns up ahead. You can see if that has any white flowers." She knew well enough from exploring the territory where different types of herbs were, but StarClan knows if she could ever put a name on any of them.

He sped up the pace, and it took a moment for Nimblepaw to catch up, but when she did, she was met with a predictably frustrated Trenchpaw. "Are you sure you can find them with ferns?" he called over the patch where she came to stop.

"Yes, just grab some." Nimblepaw rolled her eyes. Neither of them had no idea what they were doing. "Mumblefall can figure it out easy enough. If we grab a few of these _something_ has to be useful." She nosed at part of the plant, noticing as well that while it might have been fern-like, there weren't any white flowers that would give it away. _Everything looks the same…_

"Are you sure about that?" he questioned her, but Nimblepaw simply went on with her task, allowing him to spew out questions as he saw fit. As expected, he came up with another not a second later. "Uhhh... what kind of soil do the plants with white flowers grow in?"

Eventually, Nimblepaw snorted, peering around the ferns to make eye contact with him. "I seem to be recalling something a foolish apprentice mentioned to me right before we left camp. I think it went something like..." Deepening her voice, she quoted, " _I'm pretty sure you don't know any more than I do with herbs_." She gave him a cheeky look. "Now, I'm not sure who said _that_ , but it couldn't be the same tom asking _me_ what kind of soil plants with white flowers grow in." Her lifted brow showed just how much sarcasm she intended to use.

Trenchpaw stared at her, the surprise clear in his eyes. When she heard shuffling once more, she assumed he had just accepted her answer and went back to searching. That was why when she felt his breath on her ear, she nearly jumped out of her fur and turned to face him immediately.

He stood tall, her head barely meeting his chin as blue eyes peered down into amber. In that moment, with the silence stretching on, she could almost feel what he must have felt all the times she teased him. Leaning closer, the tom brushed her muzzle as he inspected her face. "Mock me again and..." Trenchpaw paused, and Nimblepaw held her breath as he stretched forward…

…and licked the tip of her nose.

"...well, you'll just find out."

Oh, had the tables turned.


	10. Sense of Self

**PHOTOGRAPH**

They said she was too good to get tangled up with a tom like him. She had her life in order, and she was ready to become a great warrior that her Clan could be proud of—but life is a funny thing, and sometimes it has something better in mind.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I replied to one of my reviewers recently stating that this story would be continuing alongside Tainted Line. Indeed it is, and while it isn't as long or detailed as that story, I do like it. Let me point out now that the perspective of this chapter should be credited towards my fellow writer Nifty, as most of the writing in this one was done by her. This goes for most of the chapters with Trenchpaw's POV, as Nimblepaw's POV was based around my writing. Now that I've cleared that up, onto the chapter!

* * *

 **Sense of Self  
**

* * *

The camp was quiet. So very quiet. It was the night of the gathering, and Trenchpaw was stuck in the apprentices' den. As the only apprentice left, he curled up in his nest, staring ahead at nothing, eyes unfocused.

Humiliation and a deep, subtle anger swirled inside him freely, and anxiety rampaged through his thoughts. Because he was accused of being a prey-stealer in a recent border skirmish with RavenClan. Because he made a mistake. Because he was a liability to his Clan, he was confined to the den and restricted permission to the Gathering.

His claws unsheathed and sheathed, and he felt tortured and trapped; unable to fall asleep, unable to soothe his anger, and unable to leave the den. His mind whirled and whirled as he assumed what the other Clans would say about him, and the ruddy tabby felt a nagging sense of doubt that his Clan would protect him. They didn't respect him as it was. Trenchpaw pictured particular amber eyes staring at him in betrayal... would he be condemned at the gathering if things got out of paw? What if RavenClan turned AspenClan against him?

Shaking a little, he lay in the same position motionless for... he didn't know how long. Lost in his paranoia, he almost didn't notice when he thought he heard meowing not far off. Listening more and growing rigid, he was unable to tell the mood of the returning gathering patrol and found himself not wanting to. His anxiety spiked and he felt momentarily nauseous when the sound of pawsteps reached his ears.

"Trenchpaw?"

Hearing his name called, Trenchpaw felt his heart begin to quicken. The familiar voice he had grown used to recently almost made him jump; however, it sounded relatively normal. There was no hint of disgust or betrayal in Nimblepaw's tone, and when she stepped in front of him, he had no choice but to look up at her. "We're back." She looked normal, as did her expression... for now at least.

He hoped everything he thought of was just him over-imagining things, but he couldn't shake the fear that set in. The resentment and anger from being left behind still did not wither away, and hearing the chattering of his clanmates made him want to escape into the forest. Meeting her amber gaze tentatively, he nodded before looking away. "Yeah, I heard the patrol coming back."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her step forward, but he still did not turn towards her. "Come on," she nudged him with a paw, causing him to flinch. "Let's go for a walk. I can tell you what happened."

She turned around and walked out without any other words, as if expecting him to just follow. He took the chance to look at her receding figure, processing her statements. Knowing he probably had no choice, he stood up, quickly following her out of the den to avoid their clanmates as much as he possibly could, only wincing slightly as the camp was covered by a light drizzle.

Their chatter grew louder, and he wasn't sure if it felt like he was being watched or if it was his imagination again. The tabby tom couldn't begin to guess where they'd walk, or what she'd tell him. His heart picked up again as he was beginning to envision her telling him she was disappointed in him or worse. Is that why she brought him out? Did she think he betrayed the Clan's interests and safety by being involved in the skirmish with RavenClan? The thought made him wilt and clench his teeth simultaneously.

Following Nimblepaw rather blindly, Trenchpaw struggled to keep his shoulders from sagging and his trail from dragging in the dirt. He kept passing through mental phases of anger and fear, each perpetuating the other, until the tabby tom didn't know what to think. The dread of what the fawn apprentice might tell him weighed him down just as much as his damp pelt from the drizzle that started did.

"It was really tense at the gathering," Nimblepaw commented as they walked, not even looking back. "We were all really curious about what the leaders would say."

Glancing up at her when she spoke, Trenchpaw bit his tongue to keep in a potentially harsh remark when she made a general statement that could, technically, be applied to any gathering. His wild thoughts made him jittery and he didn't want to say anything harmful. Swallowing, he mentally kicked himself to say something before the silence became awkward.

"I can imagine things would be tense." He had to wonder if there was any way he could have responded without sounding so… pathetic.

Silence followed his statement, but he could tell very well that Nimblepaw wanted to say something. Not even a moment after that thought, she opened her mouth. "Look..." she started, breathing in. "You made a mistake. I think you and me both know that what you did wasn't the best. But it _was_ a mistake, and the Clan isn't going to hold it over you forever. I'm pretty sure they have better things to do than hold a grudge over an apprentice," she chuckled lightly, leaving Trenchpaw to only watch with thinly veiled irritation.

"The best you can do is learn from this, I think… RavenClan wasn't in the right, but neither were you. Raggedstar kept you back because he didn't want any more trouble at the gathering." He might have attempted to cut in if she wasn't so adamant about sharing her piece. "It doesn't have anything to do with him not liking you... I can imagine that, if you were there, Raggedstar might not have even been able to talk before accusations were thrown around. Gatherings aren't always fun, anyway. If you can make it up to the Clan by putting effort in, then I'm sure that everyone will forget about it within the next moon."

Staring at her, Trenchpaw battled with irked feelings and a deeply-ingrained reaction to push any given advice away. He admittedly had problems trying to see other cats' perspectives on anything, especially his own problems. The fact that she seemed to see through him so easily struck at his frayed nerves and any ounce of pride he still clung to. Everything that came from her mouth had also come from Raggedstar's, and he briefly wondered if they understood his point of view. Or rather, was his point of view entirely wrong in their eyes? Did he truly even have one, or was he being bitter?

Uncertain of himself now, he ignored her and turned his gaze to his paws as he walked, observing how the dirt was now soft and wet enough for his paw prints to mold perfectly. Trenchpaw's anger quickly drained, but the humiliation and frustration still remained. No matter what Nimblepaw said, it was still fact that she hadn't been there at the battle and was only speaking off of what she heard by word of mouth.

She didn't have to live with his lonely thoughts and constant self-depreciation, even if it was partially self-inflicted. She had a littermate to confide in, as well as an older brother and sister. He had no one to that degree of trust and comfort, and he tried not to feel bitter.

He kept his thoughts to himself, but was unable to hide the physical effects they produced. The rain that was starting to slick down his pelt seemed to conspire against him, revealing his drooping shoulders and quick inhalations. Trenchpaw tried to think critically about her advice without subconsciously shutting down, but found that he couldn't abide or agree to all of it. No cat would forget about this in a moon. "I don't know..." he began pensively, "There are many that base their reactions on emotions. Perhaps no amount effort I put in will ever get me results."

"Don't assume that things will never get better," Nimblepaw laughed dryly, stopping and turning around to face him, causing him to look up sharply and come to a halt himself. He opened his mouth to speak suddenly before stopping. He hadn't just been referring to his most recent error. "You crossed the border, big deal. From what I understand, you didn't murder anyone in cold blood. If I was in RavenClan, I'd probably be upset at what happened. You might not wanna admit it, but I think you would be, too, if you were on the other side."

He watched her, confused, as she shook her head. She didn't look necessarily frustrated, but she looked to be feeling… something. "Everything gets you results. It's your choice if you wanna sit around and complain about how hard it can be, or if you want to make things better. If you wanna dwell on this forever, then go for it. I'm trying to _help_ you."

That part was filled with exasperation—he hadn't missed it. And her next words cut to the bone. "If you don't want it, just say so."

He blinked slowly, meeting her gaze with what could only be considered fascination. "I could do anything and everything," Trenchpaw breathed. "But even if I tried to understand them… it doesn't change anything. The same can be said that they will never understand me." Knowing he had to admit some of his shortcomings, he began, "Perhaps I need to take a different outlook. Perhaps I need to... learn from this. But I can't say I regret my actions either. You ask for me to change, but when cats fault me there is no way to get over that barrier. There will never be any agreement and no way to change."

He tried to shake out his soggy pelt, trying to dislodge the growing depression and his morose thoughts as much as the water. Trenchpaw narrowed his eyes at Nimblepaw, wondering what her motives could possibly be with trying to speak to him in such a way.

"They're not gonna do that," Nimblepaw said, but before he could question her further, she continued, " They're _not_ going to hold this over you for the rest of your life. That's irrational and very unlikely. If you can never accept what you did and move on… well, you can't very well expect others to. I took you out here to tell you about the gathering, something that I thought you might want to hear about." Her voice was gentler than before, something he took note of.

"I don't hate you, Trenchpaw... I actually like you. This isn't going to change that or my opinion of you."

"You like me?" he asked incredulously, narrowing his eyes. "…Why?" He avoided bringing up admittance to the situation, as he wasn't quite ready to focus on it.

Nimblepaw rolled her eyes, looking more exasperated and humored than he would have expected. She began leading them again, allowing the silence to drag on before finally responding, "It's not a crazy thing, Trenchpaw. You can do a lot of bad things, but that won't change what I see."

She let a moment pass before winking back at him. "I guess, unfortunately, you're stuck with me."


End file.
